Not Enough, Yet Too Much
by AJRand
Summary: The Exile talks to Atton about his past and ends up with a little more information than she can deal with. DSFExile/Atton


**Disclaimer: I own almost nothing. Credit goes to Obsidian and LucasArts.**  
**Allictan - Exile**

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Allictan rested her forehead against her palms as her anger faded away, leaving her strangely drained. Emotion had always come easily to her, even when she's been told to forsake it by the Jedi, but now she had no control over what she felt. Little things, good or bad, would set her off on crazy episodes. Kreia said it was the Force flowing through her stronger than ever before, but Allictan doubted it. She doubted most things the old woman said.

She turned her head a little in her hands, allowing herself to glance toward the pilot's seat. Atton sat seemingly relaxed in the chair, eyes apparently facing the endless view of hyperspace. But Allictan knew him too well to fall for the act. His back was slightly straighter than normal, one hand rested on top of his blaster, and every few second his eyes darted over to her. She knew her mood swings were putting him on edge, especially when they started over something as trivial as a game of Pazaak.

Her head lifted as she tried to push all thoughts away. As independent as she liked claiming to be, she couldn't deny she needed him. She had never had time to learn how to pilot a ship while at the Enclave or aboard the iArmenta/i, and during her exile it hadn't seemed important. She couldn't afford to scare him off by trying to kill him after she got a 21.

Mind finally cleared, Allictan leaned over and began picking up her side deck, carefully arranging them in order of what she usually needed most. It wasn't cheating. She would shuffle them before the next game, but this improved the odds that she would get what she wanted. Allictan noticed the corner of Atton's mouth move, apparently amused by her attempt to give herself a shot at actually winning. She slid the cards into a pocket on the side of her chair as she finished, leaning back into the worn leather of it.

"So," she began, not even turning to face her pilot as she spoke. "Why does it bother you so much when I'm like this? Do you care about me accidentally hurting myself?" Allictan let her tone turn mocking at the second question. Nothing pissed him off more than her doubting his selfishness.

"Yeah, it's almost equal to my concern about a Bantha stepping in its own shit."

"That must be why you report Tuskens who don't pick up after their pets."

"Hey, you know me," Atton shrugged in his seat as he spoke. "I'm always on the lookout for reasons to call local security forces. Though you seem to be doing a good job of having them called on us."

Allictan ground her teeth together. It wasn't her fault almost everything she did was illegal. Planetary governments didn't seem to realize that eliminating the weakest of the herd would strengthen the stronger, eventually leaving the galaxy with nothing but elite. It was an old technique that still hadn't been given a real chance.

"Well, we wouldn't have had that problem if you had just charged your blasters like a good little pilot," she ground out. It was true, at least in regards to their latest arrest. Neither of Atton's blasters had been charged up, leaving him with the options of throwing a grenade near Allictan's feet or joining her with a vibroblade. He'd opted for the latter, preferring to keep her alive, and hadn't been able to pick off any Serroco thugs before they reached the group. They'd managed to put up a good fight, but eventually the greater numbers won out.

"Right. Because you were so well trained in melee fighting that this all rests on my shoulders," Atton shot back. It was painfully obvious that Allictan had been under trained in hand to hand combat while with the Jedi, preferring to spend her time meditating and expanding her powers within the Force. She had taken all the mandatory lessons with Kavar, but only half-heartedly. Now she was paying for it.

"That wouldn't have mattered if you're blasters had been charged."

"And that wouldn't have mattered if you didn't rely on me so much."

Not wanting to lose a fight with the pilot, Allictan changed the subject. "Why were you on Peragus?"

"A miner needed a way off the station and was willing to pay enough credits." Atton seemed thrown by her sudden change of topic, but went with it anyway.

"Why would they need to leave?"

"Like I said, he paid enough credits. I've learned not to ask too much about the whys, it's how I stay alive."

"You always seem to question my whys," Allictan muttered to herself before speaking to the pilot. "So, I take it you've spent a lot of time dealing with secrecy then?"

"You could say that," he said, body going rigid at the words. This was obviously something he didn't want to talk about. Allictan noticed that and it only egged her on.

"Oh, come on. It's been made painfully clear you know every aspect of my past, just give me a glimpse into yours."

The pilot's seat swiveled around its base as he faced her, his expression changing into that guarded look he wore too often. "Alright. I was born on Eres III to a pair of ship mechanics. The good kind too. There weren't any droids in their shop, nothing but themselves and a hydrospanner. They dropped me off at a Navy recruiting center the day I turned eighteen. Told me to make a better life for myself. Haven't seen them or my sisters since."

"And you decided you could make a better life by becoming a smuggler? Sounds like you really lived up to their hopes for you."

"Hey, I don't think you're in a position to take the moral high ground here. I know about Dxun and Serroco. And don't for second think I've forgotten about Malachor. What makes you think you can judge me here?"

Turning her own chair to bring her face to face with him, Allictan found herself having to curl her hands into fists to avoid launching Atton across the room. He hadn't been there. He couldn't possibly know the agonizing decisions that went on behind the battles. "At least I did something about the Mandalorians," she spat. "All you and your smuggler friends did was sneak through openings honest men died to create. Profiting from the desperateness of others. It's rats like you that deserved becoming Mandalorian slaves."

"Oh yeah? Shows how much you know. Maybe you're wrong about a lot of other things, too."

"Wait, you served in the war?"

"Served it both of them. Was there for the start each time."

"And what of the ends?"

Atton's eyes kept their guarded look, but the corners of his mouth tugged up into the barest hint of a smile. "I have this little habit. I'm a deserter. It's what I do. I was loyal to Revan, almost to the end. She saved us and that was enough."

Catching on to the key word, Allictan felt an eyebrow shoot up. "Almost?" she asked.

No answer came. Atton had shifted his gaze to the mottled blue of hyperspace, hands dropping into his lap. He was obviously done with their conversation.

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**Chapter 2 should be up soon and will conclude their conversation.**


End file.
